The Wolf
by SeraphimeRising
Summary: A re-telling of "Beauty and the Beast" featuring to HP characters. Summary: Noble deeds are always rewarded in the end.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make any money.**

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_Author's Note: When I chose this pairing to retell in the fashion of 'Beauty and the Beast', the only way I could think to tell this story was as a fairy tale and one that I might have heard as a child having grown up in a family full of story tellers. My three-year-old niece inspired me to create this story in a particular manner having experienced for myself over Christmas that she has started carrying on the family tradition of story-telling. So what follows is actually a transcription of the recording I made as I told the story. No editing to the actual story was done. I hope you enjoy._

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**The Wolf**

Once upon a time in a world much different then ours, there was a family of seven boys and girls. Each one brilliant in there own right: the oldest not only had looks that made girls fawn but the brains to boot; the next, known for his adventurous nature, was the one that all men wanted to be –ruggedly handsome, outdoorsy, worked with wild animals – a man's man; next came the industrious one, always willing to do what was needed to get the job done; then came the twins or now the one who remained when the war to end all wars came to the end –he was the life of the party and the one everyone wanted to be around; the youngest was a girl who was talented enough to be a professional athlete. However, our story is about the sixth child, the youngest male.

He was special. He had the same looks as the oldest; the adventurous nature of the second as well as favouring the outdoors; the industriousness of the third; the captivating mile and laugh of the remaining twin, and the fearlessness of his sister. All of that and no one could convince him that he was something worthwhile.

What made him stand out amongst his talented siblings was his intense sense of loyalty and faithfulness. When he was on someone's side, they were invincible which his two best mates had found out during the war that claimed his brother.

(I know that sounds like the more interesting story but perhaps we will save that for another time. For now, let us focus on the hero of our story for tonight.)

Back to our family. Now times were good for them. They were whole and happy. The family home hosting weddings n the spring and welcoming new children in the fall. Their life had become idyllic in the lazy passing of the time.

One day the oldest boy – let's call him Bill, shall we –had been summoned on a much peculiar assignment for work. Having departed his family during their shared Sunday lunch, he made his way towards the Manor amongst the heather of the cliffs of England. Though it was no where near where the family lived, everyone knew of the Manor in their world.

For you see it had been owned by a once powerful family. This family for all its good looks, money and power suffered from vast quantities of envy, greed, and gluttony. Unfortunately, with every passing generation, the good within the family left, leaving only the ugly behind –not so carefully hidden behind their breath-taking facades. After several generations, the family, once in plenty, had dwindled to only a handful, until the disappearance of the only heir to the name; the last of the family – the last patriarch- vanished from sight.

Many had visited the Manor after the last war in vain attempts to suss out what had happened to the family but with every subsequent visit, no one found anymore answers than those that came before. With every passing day, visitors watched as the formerly grand, white Manor amongst the grey and purple heather fall into disrepair: a sad derelict state for the once proud home.

The oldest son, Bill, had been sent on a mission by the bank he had worked for to retrieve an item they had traced to the vanished family. An object they believed belonged to them –a treasured, bejeweled rose.

Now this rose had been crafted centuries ago by ones who came before us. At that time powerful Druids, who were one with the elements, walked this land. To signify their commitment to the four elements, they took a single rose from the earth, made it damp with dew of water, blew air upon it to maintain it's health, and coated it in the jewels of fire.

For years it rested, guarded by faith and trust, at the sacred walls of stone to the North. One day it simply vanished. Decades would ebb into centuries as all searched for the rose. However, no trace of the symbol of earthly beauty had been found until now.

So the oldest brother made his way towards the Manor. Along the way, the weather turned against him. He soon found himself tired, cold, wet, and hungry as the wind and the rain refused to relent.

When hope had nearly been lost, the young man thinking he would never see his wife or children again, the imposing limestone gates that marked the entrance to the lands surrounding the Manor appeared as two glowing beacons in the terrible weather.

Thankful that he would at least have shelter for the night as well as materials to build a warm fire, the man trudged up the pat to the Manor. Along the path, his skin tingled as he drew closer. Many had remarked about the strange enchantments that appeared to surround the actual building. The young man had heard stories of the home denying people admittance or even throwing them out (those people claimed to have fallen asleep in the luxurious beds still within the walls only to find themselves on the front lawn by morning's break).

As he approached the main doors, the young man was surprised to see them swing open – appearing to allow him admittance. Leary about entering a building that appeared to have open it's doors simply because he was emthere/em, the oldest brother took one look of the increasingly heavy rain and decided to chance it. It would only be one night and a dry place to bed down after locating the jeweled rose would be beneficial before having to return home to his family.

The stories he had heard regarding the Manor began to flit through his head. The ones about it being haunted, that the family had truly never left, and the strange magic that coursed through it. Though he shuddered, the older brother mentally chided himself. He had been in more dangerous places and death with more temperamental magic in Egypt where he had worked. There was no reason he should be quaking in his books like a simple school boy over wild stories of overactive and untrustworthy imaginations.

He was about to step past a large set of double doors on his left as he made his way towards the staircase ahead, when they flung open. In a manner very much like the front doors had down earlier. When he looked in the direction of the room, he stopped in his tracks: there before him stood a sumptuous meal laid out along a large dining table illuminated by a roaring fire in the room's fire place.

The oldest brother stood gaping at the scene in front of him for several minutes before his curiosity got the better of him. Slowly, he took careful steps into the room. As far as he could tell their appeared to be no malicious magic within the actual room. With a leery eye, he carefully studied the food, not believing his nose's take on the delicious smelling food when he was starving. He again determined there was nothing that could hurt him, when his mouth sank into the roll he had studied. Soon, his mouth confirmed what his nose had been trying to tell him –the food was nothing more than a delicious offering. Hunger overcame all other thought as the eldest brother took a nearby seat and helped himself to the food in front of him.

Once he had had his fill, the brother picked up his knapsack determined to find the rose before he grabbed a little shut eye and headed home.

Six hours later he was still no closer to finding the rose than when he first arrived. Exhaustion finally winning out, the brother took the first bedroom he came across. He knew he shouldn't have been surprised at the luxurious bedding but he was. When his head touched the soft pillows with linen that still smelled fresh, the brother quickly drifted off to sleep.

The dawning light of the sun would wake him too soon. Quickly, he gathered his belongings together. He was about to exit the room when his nose caught a whiff of breakfast. Though his mind kept repeating the mantra, 'Quicker you find the rose, the quicker you leave', his stomach would have none of that. The brother's footsteps took him quickly to a table by a window piled with all a full English breakfast had to offer.

When he finished, he willed his body to leave the room and continue his search for the rose.

Having completely searched the west wing of the house, sometime later, he journeyed into the other wing of the house. He had looked briefly last night but he hadn't gotten far. The pit in his stomach had grown so large last night, while in the east wing, that he had abandoned it in hopes the rose might be in the other wing or at the very least he could search it when the sun was in the sky.

Towards the end of the second floor, he came across a set of doors that had once been handsomely engraved. Now those pictures were mauled by deep grooves in the wood. The brother was quite taken aback by this as he had seen no other evidence of wild animals in the dilapidated Manor.

Gently, he turned the knob on the door and pushed it open. With a guarded step, he entered the room slowly -only the balls of his feet making contact with the now rough floor. When the brother looked around the door, his eyes immediately fell on a glass box fashioned with gold corners and in the box, glimmering in the mid-day light, was the jeweled rose.

The brother carefully made his way to the box. The entire time, his eyes constantly on the look out for any sign of danger amidst the destroyed furniture and torn draperies. He took a moment to appreciate the lost treasure. Slipping on cotton gloves, he tenderly opened the case. The brother was about to retrieve the rose when he caught a flash of white coming towards him very quickly.

He stepped back from his prize and had barely raised his hands to protect himself when he was knocked to the ground by a white, furry animal. The brother struggled with the wolf-like creature, determined to see his wife and children again. However, even the combination of his determination with the adrenaline coursing through his body was no match for the brother against the wild animal before it all went dark.

When he woke, he found himself relieved that not only had he survived but he was alone. Unfortunately, that did not last long as he heard a gravely voice sternly remarked, "You took shelter from me as well as food. Yet, you chose to repay me and my hospitality by stealing my possession."

"I was only doing my job," the brother stuttered, trying to get to his feet. "That rose was stolen from the people I work for long ago. They only ant what is rightfully yours."

The voice emitting from the shadows gave a hallow laugh. "Did they tell you it was stolen from our family first?"

"No. They claim to have created it."

"Aye, though they did," the voice replied, moving towards the brother who took corresponding steps back in an attempt to maintain the distance. "They were commissioned to create it. Paid a mint of gold for it and refused to hand it over or return the gold, so we simply took it."

The brother felt trapped. For the animal's story sounded like something the people he worked for would do. Thinking quickly, he said, "How about you let me leave and I will tell them that alas I did find it however it had been broken into a million shards and couldn't be repaired?" The brother was desperate to return to his wife and children.

"How about you stay within these Manor walls for the rest of your natural life as punishment?"

Though normally sharp of mind and quick of wit, the brother could not find anything in his arsenal to hedge emthat/em. His shoulders slumping in defeat, he bowed his head and said, "At least allow me to go home for a few days to say good-bye to my children."

The beast did not respond immediately. Instead after few tense moments, he acquiesced. "Fine," he said sharply. "That ring on your finger will take you to your home. On the dawn of the third day, it will bring you straight to your cell. That ring though is transferable, should you find someone that would take your place than that ring will bring them here in your place.'

the brother did not have a chance to reply before he felt a tug along his navel. When the world stopped spinning, he fell to his knees, his eyes glued to his large family descending from the family home to him.

The first to wrap their arms around him was his beloved wife, followed shortly by his children. He couldn't help the tears that started to fall at the thought that these would be his last days them them. At that moment, he swore to himself that he would keep what would happen in three days time to himself. He would just enjoy his family and not burden them with the truth.

Now the youngest brother, who stood towards the back of the crowd, noticed two things about his brother: one, that his smile didn't quite reach his eyes and two, there was a new ring on his right hand. The youngest brother had never claimed to be the sharpest knife in the door but he was astonished to find himself the only one who noticed something off with his brother and he was now determined to suss out what it was.

However, during the course of the first day, he found his brother to be a stone wall. The youngest brother was not deterred, in fact, he became more determined to figure out what was going on: the source of his increasing sad eyes, the reasons his laugh and smiles appeared forced, and the story behind why he lingered with every touch.

So on the second day, the youngest brother continued to ask his oldest brother questions but he still was no closer. So his polite questions turned into discrete pleas until dinner when he finally relented to using the age-old method of loosening even the most stubborn tongues -alcohol.

It was long past midnight by the time the youngest brother's plan came to fruition. The rest of the family had long to bed leaving the two brothers toiling away at a chess game. This was only because the youngest brother made it so. He was using his brother's tipsiness to control the length of the game.

And just like a well-executed chess move, it wasn't long after the last person had said their good nights that the oldest brother's alcohol, relaxed tongue started talking. Wisely, the younger brother remained quiet and took in each slurred word while his mind filled-in the rest. The oldest brother, though, was unable to finish his tale as sleep overcame him. Soon, he was loudly snoring from his seat on the couch.

The youngest brother sighed and leaned back in his own chair. His eyes never leaving his brother's body as his mind raced as to what he could do to help him or even better yet, what he should do. He kept coming back to his brother's children –what kind of uncle would he be if he let them grow up without a father?

He on the other hand didn't have any children, the only one of his siblings not to. He didn't even have a significant other in which to speak. That unfortunately was leading to more and more not so subtle questions from his family and friends. After several moments of thinking, the youngest brother knew what he had to do -he would take his brother's place. He knew that his family and friends would miss him but he also knew that his brother's wife and children would miss their husband and father more.

With the weight of the world on his shoulders, he pried himself out of the chair, feeling much older than he was actually was. The youngest brother crept over to where his older brother had fallen over on the sofa and was now snoring quite loudly. He picked up his brother's hand and gently pried the ring of of it. Slipping it on his own hand, he whispered his good-byes.

He continued that well into the early morning hours to all his friends and family who were still within the four walls of his childhood home. After that, he made his way to his room there which had remained his though everyone else had moved out years ago. There he packed the few things he couldn't bear to leave; a photo of his family -the last one taken of them whole and happy before the war, another photo, this one of him and his two best friends shortly after thy had survived the same war, and his chess set. He then sat down and wrote a letter to them all. Tears dripped onto the paper as he wrote the words, he hoped would bring them peace and understanding regarding the choice he was making.

He was about to sign his name when he felt a hook around his navel. He looked up to see the first rays of dawn peak over the horizon before they spun out of sight.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a cell. He took in his surroundings for several minutes before, with a heavy sigh, he slid to the floor and hung his head.

"You took his place?"

The youngest brother looked up to find himself staring into the pale grey eyes of a white wolf-like creature. His eyes widened as he didn't see anywhere else where the baritone voice could come from.

"And evidently mute. Quite a shame really; well come along."

He just stared as the wolf turned around and headed towards the open cell door. His mind racing through a hundred and one possibilities as to why he may be picturing a talking wolf.

The wolf looked back at him. Well, not so much looked back but more looked down at him as he snapped, 'You can stay here if you like but seeing as you will be here for a while, I thought you might like more … comfortable accommodations."

The youngest brother didn't have to be told twice before scrambling to his feet. He went to grab his bag but realised it had not made the trip with him. Depressed, he followed the wolf through the winding corridors until the wolf stopped in front of a set of beautiful wood doors.

"These are to be your quarters for the duration of your stay here," the wolf explained. "Breakfast and lunch will be served in your quarters; dinner is at eight in the dining room downstairs. You are free to explore the building and grounds but you must stay out of the upper floors of the east wing. Understood?"

The youngest brother nodded and went to open the doors. He gasped in awe as the opulent room revealed itself. The room was as big as his childhood home and not only contained a bed, but a sitting area. The young man stepped inside gaping at what filled his eye. Turning back to the door he saw the wolf leaving, calling out he said, "Thank you."

He heard no response.

Quickly, he added to the empty doorway, "My name is Ron. Will I see you at dinner?"

However, he still received no response. Strolling over to the door, he peaked his head out into the hallway to find it deserted. He found himself inexplicably saddened by this, so he left the door to his quarters open as he began to explore his accommodations.

The hours whittled themselves away as Ron continued to explore the Manor. He was amazed at everything he found there except for one thing -he hadn't come across a chess set. Ron hoped that the wolf would be joining him for dinner as he planned to inquire after one.

Arriving in the dining room promptly at eight, he was saddened to see only one place set and no sign of the wolf. He took his seat and watched as food and drink filled the plates and glassware in front of him. Taking his time, he stretched his meal out for as long as possible in the hopes that the wolf would eventually join him.

When he finally could not drag his meal out any longer, the young man rose to take his leave. He was quite put out that the wolf had not joined him in the span of three hours time. He stepped out into the entryway and for the first time that evening saw the wolf sitting at the entrance to the forbidden part of the Manor. Rolling his eyes, he struggled to keep from lashing out at the wolf. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, the wolf finally spoke, in a soft tone, "May I stay in your quarters tonight?"

"No you may not," the young man snapped before turning towards his quarters in the west wing.

And so this continued. Everyday, the young man would explore the Manor trying to find a chess set. Every night, he would show up for dinner promptly at eight. He would then draw out his dinner for a couple of hours in hopes that the wolf would join him but he never did.

The only time Ron would see the wolf would be when he retired to his room for the evening. For every night, the wolf would sit at the entrance towards the east wing and ask if he could stay in Ron's quarters that evening. And like every evening, Ron would tell him no.

Until one evening, when Ron had had it with his host. That night upon hearing the wolf's question, he snapped back, "Have dinner with me and I may very well change my mind."

The young man did not expect anything to change though he did feel better saying it out loud. The wolf had done nothing to bring about a dislike of him, outside of denying Ron company. Having been a member of a large family, he was unaccustomed to the perpetual silence the Manor seemed to linger in.

The following day, it appeared nothing had changed which disappointed the young man. He ended up sitting outside most of the day staring out into the countryside, in the general direction of where his family home was. And as he sat out there, he thought about his friends and family, wondering if they missed him too. There was a nagging feeling in him from years of insecurity that they probably didn't miss him as much as he missed them. He spent the rest of the afternoon trying to chase those thoughts away.

He almost didn't go to dinner that night. However, his stomach won out. He strolled into the dining room past eight half-expecting not to be able to eat which about summed up his day. However, not only was there a place setting when he arrived but the white wolf was sitting by his place.

Ron was speechless. He collapsed into the chair and watched his plate fill as always. Turning his head to the side towards the wolf, he whispered, "Thank you."

The wolf didn't say anything. He just laid down by the young man's seat. It wasn't a lot but it was something. Ron took his time to eating again, hoping for a bit of conversation. However, the wolf remained silent and unmoving the entire time he ate.

When he stood up, he murmured his thanks again to the wolf. There was no other way to express the gratitude he felt to have even the slightest amount of companionship after such a melancholy day.

He was about to exit the room when he heard the wolf ask, "May I stay in your quarters tonight?"

Sadly, he whispered back, "Not tonight. Maybe another time."

Now the young man felt guilty about refusing the request. Sighing, he continued, "I really am but I don't want you to have to spend your evening watching a grown man cry," before trudging the pat to his quarters. The entire way he could hear the wolf pad behind him though he did nothing to acknowledge it's presence nor did the wolf do anything more to alert him.

By the morning, the sadness had truly set in the young man. The lack of companionship over the past few weeks had taken its toll. As such, tit took him longer to get out of his large,soft bed because there really wasn't reason to do so. And though he ate breakfast, he skipped lunch. For the first time since he had arrived, he had kept to his quarters the entirety of the day.

When he opened the door to the hallway, to go down to the dining room, he found the wolf laying there as if it had been waiting on him.

Quietly, Ron remarked, "You could have knocked." He knew it was silly to say something like that to a wolf but a wolf wasn't suppose to speak either.

"No I couldn't." The wolf said simply rising to his feet.

"Why?" The young man asked now befuddled.

"I can only step into your quarters with your permission. As the doors constitute in your quarters, I must have your permission to knock."

"Oh" was all the young man could say as he continued down the hallway.

He waited for the wolf to say something more about why he had been outside his quarters but the wolf offered nothing. After descending the staircase, Ron finally asked, "Why were you outside my door?'

'I was worried."

Again he offered Ron nothing more, so Ron asked the obvious question of "Why?"

"You didn't leave your quarters today."

Ron stopped in his tracks at the wolf's answer. He was speechless. He had always been the most sensitive of his siblings so his moodiness and long disappearances into his room went rather unnoticed by his family and friends the older he got. The last time any of them had said anything, he had locked himself in his room for five days.

When the wolf finally noticed he had been proceeding to the dining room alone, he stopped and looked back at Ron. With a puzzled expression on his cocked head, the wolf asked, "Have I offended you?'

"No," Ron replied quickly. With a shake of his head, he continued, "I'm prone to long periods of sulking. I'm not used to anyone being concerned about a single day in my room."

"Even when you were clearly upset last night?'

Embarrassed, Ron muttered as he took his seat," I'm one of those people who wear their heart on their sleeve. They've just gotten used to it over the years. In fact, they only say something when I start to sulk for close to a week."

"I'm sorry," the wolf said, laying down on the floor beside him.

The young man smiled softly at the wolf before turning to his food.

"Do you miss them?" the wolf unexpectedly asked.

The young man was taken aback by the question. Looking at his food, he replied, "I miss how loud my family's house is."

The wolf implored, "But do you miss them?"

Ron thought for a moment before saying, "Yes. emBut/em I didn't have as much to give up as my brother did -the one you first met. He had a wife, children and a career. Whereas I am the afterthought."

"What did you have?"

The young man knew that answer immediately though he took a long pause before replying, "Nothing."

"i understand," the wolf muttered.

That would be the last thing either would say for the rest of the meal. The young man wanted to say more but he couldn't find the words to actually say something. Like always, he dragged the meal out hoping that the wolf would take the initiative but the wolf didn't again.

This time when he stood to take his leave, the young man didn't wait for the wolf to ask. Instead, he extended an invitation. "If you like," he softly said, while looking at his feet, "you may stay in my quarters tonight.

He found his heart plummeting when the wolf didn't respond. Without looking up, he continued, "It's okay. I understand. Really I do. I just thought -"

"Thank you," the wolf interrupted. "I would like that very much."

A smile came over the young man's face. He lifted his head up to look at the wolf before turning to leave. His smile never left his face as the wolf followed him up and into his quarters. It felt weird to have someone else in his room after being by himself for so long.

When he climbed into bed, he noticed the wolf had taken up residence on a rug by the fireplace. Whispering 'good night', he was about to go to sleep when the thought of how uncomfortable the floor might be came to mind. So he added that the wolf could join him on the bed.

Though sleep overtook the young man, the wolf was now awake. He had never expected the beautiful and from what he could tell good, young man to allow him into his quarters -let along his bed. The draw of curling up next to a person again and one who appeared to want him around proved to be more than his stubborn nature. He quickly moved towards the bed and snuggled in at the feet of the young man.

When the young man woke, the morning felt brighter. He knew that today was going to be a good day. Stretching his long body, he found that there was a warm body near him. He had almost forgotten about the wolf joining him in his quarters last night. Turning to his side, he looked down towards the wolf. He found himself mesmerised by the grey eyes staring back at him. With a smile, he stretched out his hand towards the wolf unsure of what contact the wolf would allow him. The young many had to stop himself from purring when the wolf's muzzle pushed it's way under his hand and nuzzled it.

"You must think I'm pathetic," the young man sadly whispered, moving to get out of bed.

"No different than I am," the wolf replied, climbing out of bed with the young man.

Now the young man didn't know what to say to that, though it warmed his heart that he wasn't alone in needing companionship. Tentatively, he tried to maintain the conversation as he took a seat for breakfast, "I realise I've never asked you your name."

"Lucius," the wolf responded, curling up next to the young man on the floor.

The young man found the courage to ask the obvious and gently inquired, "May I ask..."

(Well, he tried to inquire, however words failed him.)

The wolf answered though quietly, "Not an answer I can give you."

the young man didn't say much after that, he just went about his day. He tried to do what he had done everyday before his little fit of depression, however he kept finding himself distracted by the now constant presence of the wolf. It wasn't a bad thing, mind you, for the young man found it good and reassuring. And though he had been told time and time again through his youth and his first forays into adulthood that he was needed, today was the first day he actually emfelt/em it.

Much to his pleasure, his days continued like this. Though very few words were exchanged between him and the wolf, the constant physical presence was what was truly needed by both. For it fulfilled their own need for physical affection.

The young man tried to inquire after a chess board in which to at least play himself but after seeing how upset the wolf would become at the mere mention, Ron quickly stopped. For he did not want to hurt his host when the wolf had been nothing but kind and supportive of him.

As the holidays approached though, the young man's thoughts turned more and more frequently to his family and friends. His mind constantly remembering the parties and the times he had spent doling out gifts to his nieces and nephews. He thought about asking the wolf to put a small tree up in his quarters but always decided against it at the last minute. The young man was afraid that even the question would hurt the wolf, much like the mention of the chess board had.

One day as the young man stared out over the snow-covered landscape, he heard the wolf's voice echo through the large room from behind. "Would you like to see your family?"

The young man couldn't help himself as he spun around, so sure was he that he had only imagined the wolf's voice. However, there in the library stood the wolf, his grey eyes even more sad than Ron ever remembered them being. The very sight of the wolf's sad eyes, caused the young man to become quite torn over his dilemma –he very much wanted to see his family and friends but he also wanted to remain with the wolf. Something in the back of his mind told him that both would be impossible.

Finding himself lost, he asked, "Are you sure?"

"It's the holidays," the wolf told him firmly. The young man hated the coolness in which he heard in the wolf's voice. It had been so long since he had that he had forgotten how much it could chill him to the bone. "And a time for families. So you should be with yours."

"What about you?" the young man asked worried for the companion he had come to care about deeper than he thought possible.

"Do not worry about me," the wolf replied. "Go home to your family. The ring will bring you back if you should want to return and it will take you there in a few minutes as well."

The young man looked down at the ring he had faithfully worn on his left thumb since the day it brought him home.

Home.

"Wait," he cried out. Looking up, he found himself alone. Fearful that the ring would never bring him back, he started to tug the ring off. However, the familiar tug around his navel ripped him from his home with a mournful cry –much like the one that echoed through the countryside surrounding the Manor.

Opening his eyes, the young man found himself staring at his childhood home, but all his mind could focus on was this was not _his_ home. Not anymore. For his home was where ever Lucius was.

Desperately, his mind went to work, trying to figure out just how to use the ring to get back to Lucius. He didn't have long before the first scream, alerting the rest of his family he had returned, sounded in his ears. Horrified, he looked up to see siblings and friends alike tear out of the house toward him, with his parents close behind them.

Quickly, he found himself enveloped in arms. He closed his eyes trying to settle himself. For he had become so accustomed to Lucius' subtle physical affections that these more overt ones were unnerving and too much for the young man.

While shell-shocked, he allowed his friends and family move him inside. Though he had longed for this type of attention (the kind that put him in the middle of it) all his life, every second he spent in it made him hate it more. As soon as it was clear to the family that he wasn't going to disappear again, the questions started. One after another they fired at him. No one giving him a chance to answer before sending another one in his direction.

When the young man thought he was about to lose it, to tell them all to simply shut it, the house fell silent. Shocked, the young man looked around to see that his eldest brother had arrived. The youngest watched as tears filled his brother's eyes before he strolled purposefully to him, the brother they had all feared was gone forever.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight again," the eldest whispered harshly into the young man's ear as he held him tight. "Do you understand me?"

The young man didn't respond. He just let his brother hold onto him while he desperately tried to find a way in his mind to get back home to Lucius.

For the rest of the evening, he remained quiet. Always with a perfunctory 'yes' or 'no' as they were needed. The young man found himself thankful that his family just attributed the change in him to exhaustion from returning from -what they had decreed- his 'ordeal'. He didn't fight them about their assumptions, it was no use. Once they had set their mind to something it was next to impossible to sway them otherwise.

His time away from them had driven the lessons he had always known about his family in a little more. The young man knew he had a great family but it had finally come time for him to grow up and lave the next; something he hadn't realised he had been avoiding until fate pressed his hand on the matter.

However, the worst part of being at home was not the uncomfortable bed (that had been too short for him for years) or the constant banging of the ghoul (which he had forgotten about) but that for the first time in a few months he would have to sleep without Lucius tucked up next to him. He missed the wolf more than he had thought possible, even after not wanting to leave him in the first place. At that point, the thought in the back of his head was that Lucius may not have wanted him or had grown tired of him, took root. That thought kept hm awake that first night.

After a long night of not sleeping, the young man made his way down the stairs. As like yesterday, people immediately descended upon him. He had no patience for them this time and pushed them out of his way to the sounds of their own well-meaning but misplaced yells of indigence as well as horrified looks. The simple thought of one of their own brood denying another a well-intentioned hug shunned them into silence after their yells had fallen upon his deaf ears.

The young man heard someone in the group mutter about what had happened to him but he chose not to respond. Instead, he set about the kitchen making his own breakfast as the others talked amongst themselves in whispers in other rooms.

He was content to let them do so as it provided him some quiet in which to think about the ring and how it worked in order to take him home. The thought that Lucius may not have wanted him anymore did keep cropping up but the young man kept pushing those thoughts away. He was certain that was not the case.

By mid-day, he could no longer hide his exhaustion. His family kept asking him at that point what had happened to him while he was away. Nothing he said could make them understand he was simply exhausted, that he just hadn't slept the night before. They didn't believe him though; it was clear on their faces. In frustration, he finally proclaimed that he was going to take a nap and he would be down or dinner. And even though he made quite a loud show of climbing the stairs to his room, he could tell someone was following him. The young man stopped in front of his door and spun yelling, "I'm going to take a bloody nap. I'm not disappearing."

There in front of him stood his oldest brother. The one who had unknowingly given him something he needed, something he was desperate to get back. In the dim hallway, the young man noticed for the first time how much his brother had aged while he had been away. Guilt rose in the young man, for he feared he was the cause of it, however that guilt was quickly erased when his brother softly said, "Give me the ring."

"No," the young man firmly replied. At that moment, he became determined to only part with the ring in his death.

"Please," the older brother pleaded. "That beast has done something to you. You need to give me the ring. It's the only way you can have your life back."

The young man stood gaping at his brother. He couldn't believe that anyone would want the life he had had: constantly in the shadows of siblings and friends, struggling to escape but seemingly unable to by the same people, only able to go for promotions when his best mate thought they should or unable to move out because why should he, he wasn't married which only led to blind dates with women his family liked and approved of when ll he wanted was a nice young _man_ to curl up with at night.

His mouth started to move up and down but no sound came out of it. He had never been more offended than he was now. Finally, he coolly replied, "The wolf? The wolf has done nothing to me. Except maybe see how little I belong here. And that I'm tired of being expected to be someone I'm not."

He turned to get away from his brother and put his door between him and the person his right hook was begging to make contact with. A hand taking hold of his arm stopped him and spun him around. A struggle for the ring ensured before the younger brother won. He got to his feet, and did a visual check for the ring before disappearing behind his bedroom door.

The young man made sure the whole house heard his anger by the force he used in which to slam his bedroom door. He then locked it and pushed his dresser against the door to ensure that no one tried to take the ring from him while he slept. Then he moved this headboard against the dresser to be sure. The young man then curled up on his bed with the ring clasped desperately in his fist before crying himself to sleep.

The most interesting dream came to him. He found himself back at the Manor. In the distance, on the garden terrace where him and Lucius had spent their afternoons before the weather turned to too cold, stood a man with long, white blond hair. Mesmerised with the man, he made his way slowly towards him, loving the draw the man had on him. All his family had talked about this feeling when they found 'the one' – something he had thought he would never feel himself.

Upon reaching the man, Ron carefully wrapped his arms around the firm waist somehow knowing that though he had never seen this man before at the Manor (though the hair reminded him of one he did, one that he suddenly realised was also named Lucius but he pushed that thought aside), he knew the physical contact would not be unwelcome. He felt the man tighten in his arms but he refused to let go. Instead, he buried his nose into the long, loose tresses; breathing the fresh pine scent he found there.

The other man started to talk but Ron didn't listen. He was too focused on the physical comfort of the other man. Every so often he picked up phrases and words here and there: 'the story is a lie', 'the rose is cursed', 'I lost everything', 'I never thought', and a few other words here and there. He stopped nuzzling into the long tresses when he heard the baritone voice he knew he loved whisper, "I'm sorry. It's better for you if I let you go."

The young man screamed, "No", as he shot up in bed. Soon, he heard footsteps thundering to his room, followed by banging on the door. He knew he should do something to pacify them but he couldn't find the energy to do just that. Instead, he just called out that he was fine and tried to go back to sleep. He just wanted to dream of the mysterious man with long blond hair.

However, he didn't dream of that man for the next few days. Those days had been some of the worst days in his life. He remembered thinking in the not so distant past that war had been the worst thing he had ever experienced. The threat of an unknown enemy was not nearly as stressful as one that was known he found.

It was hard to fight those who he knew loved and wanted the best for him but had never asked what he wanted or worse –they hadn't listened when he said it himself. Everyday, he fought his brothers and best friend about the ring. They kept trying to take it form him but he still hadn't capitulated: every time they tackled him, he fought back; every time they blackmailed him, he threw their own secrets back in their face; and when they finally turned to just out right threatening him, he just turned a deaf ear to them. Every moment he spent with them the more he missed the silence of the Manor. He longed for his home with Lucius.

That night he fell into his bed exhausted. He was at his wits end, his family was at their wits end. With his bedroom door suitably blocked with every piece of furniture left in his room. He knew it was an incredibly childish thing to do but he didn't know how else he could keep the wing in his possession when his body demanded the sleep he had been denying it.

This night, when he dreamed, he was taken back to the Manor's snow-covered the grounds of the garden. There was no evidence of Lucius or the gentleman he had seen before. Frantically, he looked for sign of either of them. The longer he looked, the more fevered his panic became. When he finally got to the _Black Beauty_ roses that had always caused Lucius to linger, he finally found one of the two people he was looking for. There under the snow laden branches laid the white wolf he missed.

The young man's feet wouldn't move fast enough as he moved to the animal. Once there, he fell to his needs, taking the animal's head into his lips. He murmured words of affection. The same words that he had wanted to before but had been unable to and now he regretted that he hadn't. Stroking Lucius' head, he whispered his apologies for not being able to figure out how to get home to him but that he had been the foremost thought of the young man's every thought.

The words the wolf spoke, Ron drunk in every word: "it's not your fault. I chose not to tell you how the ring worked. I'm a selfish old fool boy. One that wanted you to want me without knowing how the curse affects me. I just wanted you to want me. It had been so long since someone had. My own son and wife had forsaken me when all I had tried to do was be the best possible husband and father. The curse I had warned them about, settled in the month they left for Paris. I guard the rose to protect my son. As long as I suffer the curse and the rose remains in tact then he will never know its affects much like I did not know until my own father died at _his_ hands. Live your life. Please..."

The young man did nothing to stop the tears that were falling from his eyes. The only thing he did do was wipe them from the dingy fur. After the wolf had fallen quiet, he then begged, "Please don't leave me. I need you. I want you."

The young man bent over. When the wolf's smell infiltrated his senses, he realised that the man he had dreamed of days ago was the same as the wolf. The wolf was the man, the man was the wolf –and they were his classmate's father Lucius. All that information, with all the implications raced through his mind for a millisecond before he realised it didn't matter.

All that mattered was him and Lucius.

The young man knew he needed to get to Lucius. He just needed to get home.

Shooting up from his dream, he cried out, "I just want to go home."

A hook grabbed around his navel at that moment. Breathing a sigh of relief, he closed his eyes trusting the ring to take him home, home to Lucius. The banging outside of his door didn't matter as his room disappeared in front of him.

When his surroundings reappeared he found himself in the garden like in his dream. As soon as his feet found firm ground, he took off towards the _Black Beauty_ roses; hoping his dream was more prophetic than imaginary, that he could and would find Lucius there.

His heart plummeted when he got to the roses in question. There under the roses laid his white wolf under a thing layer of snow. It appeared that the wolf was still with death.

Yelling, "No. No. _No_.", the young man ran over to the wolf. He fell to his knees and pulled the wolf's head into his lap. Brushing off the snow, he whispered through his tears, "Please don't leave me. You gave me something to live fore when before I was merely existing. Please stay with me...let me just love you. Let me love you here. In my home, because you are here. You are my home Lucius. Please stay with me a little longer."

But there was no response.

The young man really started to grieve as the thought that he was too late overwhelmed his mind. Burying his nose in the wolf's fur, he tried to force himself to think of a better time, but his mind could only focus on what he would and could never have now with Lucius gone.

He never noticed the swirl of air that enveloped the two. Snowflakes and rose petals dancing around as the magic that had cursed the Malfoy for years swelled around the grieving young man who had unwittingly broke the spell. For the first time since the curse had been cast, someone had done more than say they loved the Malfoy patriarch: they had actually meant it.

The young man's words with their unspoken intentions, unleashed the hurt of the young woman years ago that formed the core of the jeweled rose; the angst of a young woman who had truly loved reigning Malfoy patriarch but had been turned aside for a prettier package. Since the, every subsequent patriarch had made it their life's mission to protect the rose for when the preceding one passed, the curse would fall to the next causing them to spend their days in wolf form as those they had loved cast them aside.

So while the young man's tears reversed the curse of the wolf, the rose crumbled to powder in the glass box in Lucius' quarters before coming open. The swirling winter wind pulled the flakes of dust and brought them amongst the snow towards the young man who still clung towards the still form of the wolf.

The flakes of magic and snow began to fall upon the couple. The young man found himself spent of tears. Sitting back up, he wondered just what he was going to do now. Looking back down, he saw the wolf was gone. In its place was a handsome man, he had seen throughout his teenage years, a face he had never expected to like but one he came to love.

Ron bent over and laid a chaste kiss upon the man's lips. When he opened his eyes, he found a familiar set of grey eyes looking back at him. The eyes rimmed with red and glassy with tears.

"Lucius," the young man murmured, running his hands through the blond hair, he had only dreamed of before.

"Stay," Lucius whispered back weakly. "Please."

"You didn't have to even ask," the young man responded before stealing another kiss.

And though the days, weeks, and moths that would follow would test both of them, they did find their happily ever after in the end.

_Fin._


End file.
